


Seeds of Discord Part 27

by kbj1123



Series: Wonder Woman & Captain America [28]
Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Wonder Woman - All Media Types
Genre: Action & Romance, Action/Adventure, Crossover Pairings, F/M, One True Pairing, Superheroes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-23
Updated: 2015-02-23
Packaged: 2018-03-14 16:53:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3418313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kbj1123/pseuds/kbj1123
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Someone or something is causing violent riots to erupt all over the U.S., and whatever it is, it wreaks havoc with both Wonder Woman's health and Bruce Banner's ability to keep his rage in check.</p><p>Diana and Steve's first night home from their near-deadly mission, part 1</p>
            </blockquote>





	Seeds of Discord Part 27

What should have been a ten-minute cab ride takes a half-hour on the icy road home, but it is below freezing outside, and walking was out of the question. As the cab passes the alleyway a few blocks from the brownstone, both Diana and Steve crane their necks and peer down the empty dead-end. “Shelter’s open,” Steve assures both her and himself. A few minutes later, the cab stops. Steve pays the driver and then grabs the overnight bag at his feet. He holds the cab door open and says “Welcome home Mrs. Rogers,” extending his arm. She smiles and takes it. Diana pauses on the short walkway that leads to their stoop when a glorious idea occurs. She falls backward into the snow. Steve looks alarmed for a moment until he sees her move her legs and arms up and down, and he laughs and pulls her up. “Yeah, you’re definitely feeling better.” She turns to admire her work. Then she kneels down and writes “Diana” with a gloved finger. When she stands up, she wraps her arms around his waist and tells him, “Because I know when you’re thinking it, even if you know not to say it.” He scoops her up and carries her up the stairs and past the threshold of their building.

“Are you trying to sweep me off my feet?” She teases. He grins and sets her down in front of the mailboxes. “You can fly. I’ve gotta take every chance I get!”

Home feels right to Diana. After putting her snowy things away, she stands behind the sofa, brings her arms past her head and bends backward a few inches. She listens to the heater kick on, then walks across the room to put on some music. She chooses a Miles Davis compilation. In the kitchen, cabinets and then the refrigerator open and shut. Eventually, Steve walks into the room eating an apple. We’ve gotta get some groceries tonight or tomorrow,” he informs her as he sits down. She goes to the back of the couch and starts to rub his neck and shoulders. He leans his head back and she bends forward and kisses his forehead. “How did I end up deserving you again?” he says.

“You don’t. It was untreatable brain damage I sustained during the War.”

“My gain,” he replies, grinning up at her. “Remind me to thank the Axis nations sometime.” She climbs over the back of the couch and plops next to him, tucking her feet underneath her. “What are you, five?” he asks. She reaches over and steals a couple of bites of the apple. His hands cup her ankle and he strokes her instep with his thumb. After a minute or two, she slides her foot back underneath her and offers him the other one. He lifts it to his lips and kisses it. “Was that a ‘princess’ thing,” she asks halfheartedly. He shakes his head. “Mostly it’s just a ‘wife’ thing. Your feet are freezing, by the way.” He pulls her other foot back out and wraps them both in a throw blanket. “There.” He looks around. “You finished off my apple, didn’t you?” She hands him the core, and then flops backward along the length of the couch and smiles. “Sorry.”  
He sighs. That feels right to Diana, also: Steve lovingly exasperated with her over everyday things. “If I go out to the store will you be okay here by yourself?” She rolls back up and stares at him with what she hopes is a look of disbelief. “I’m Wonder Woman, and this is my home.”

He gets up and takes a short bow. “Stupid question, but you’ve been traumatized. Forgive me your highness, I’m gonna go make a list, then I’m going to get us some food.” 

It feels so good to be home. She pulls him back down by the hand and kisses him. “I’m fine. I just helped you save the world a few days ago. I’m not traumatized but hurry home because I’ll miss you,” she says. Then she gets up to run herself a bath. She notices that the door doesn’t bolt shut until after the water stops running. She knows he worries about her.

Before she steps into the water, she lights candles and turns off the lights. The bathwater smells like hyacinth oil and sea salt, which reminds her of her own private baths from a lifetime ago. Diana closes her eyes and lets the heady, floral musk envelop her. The hospital, the worries over Eris, and her fraught moments with Steve from the past few days all evaporate with the popping and fizzing bubbles. The muscles in her back and belly unwind and she smiles. She feels heavy and light simultaneously. When she opens her eyes, haloes of candlelight cast out the sunset’s shadows. This is home also: she is alone and she is loved and at this moment, everything is absolutely right. 

It doesn’t worry her that he still isn’t home as the freezing sun drops and the sky outside turns purple-gray. She makes sure the light is on in the hallway, leaves the bedroom door open a crack. Then she puts on her favorite silk pajamas and a pair of Steve’s heavy socks. The pajamas are the same pale pink color as the tunic she used to wear all the time on Themyscira. It was good to be cared for by her mother. No matter their issues, her mother’s love is yet another place that is home, and she carries it inside of her. The thick cotton on her feet and the smooth weightlessness of silk again make her feel anchored and weightless. She settles under the bed’s blankets. The clock reads just before five. Safely cocooned, she yawns and drifts into sleep.

She startles half-awake sometime later because she hears a noise in the apartment. Cabinets open and close, paper rustles. She looks at the clock and sees that it is almost half past seven. “Putting groceries away, she thinks, and closes her eyes again.

Later, the mattress shifts with weight. Without opening her eyes, she mumbles his name drowsily. “Hey sleepyhead, it’s just me.” He curls up behind her, his chest against her back, and entwines his legs between hers. Even through his sweatpants and t-shirt and her own pajamas, she feels his warmth and strength. She sighs and relaxes a little more. He wraps an arm around her and catches her hand, then brings it to her chest so that their interlaced fingers rest over her breasts. “Get anything good at the store?” she murmurs. 

“Yeah, but they were really crowded. Sorry it took so long.” He wriggles closer up against her. “You sure you’re not hungry? It’s pretty early yet.” 

“Umgood,” she mumbles into her pillow. She tucks his arm more comfortable against her and sags into his weight. She lets his soft breath lull her into unconsciousness.

Happier and more relaxed than she’s felt in several weeks, even in the protective shelter of home and Steve’s arms, the nightmare assaults her. It is dark, and the air is cold and damp. Heavy chains attach to her wrists, ankles and waist; Phane’s hot, bitter breath is on her neck; Steve is chained similarly, and drowning. The sharp blade of Eris’s sword cuts through her, and the some unidentifiable flower is severed at the root. Phanes rips the top of her bra strap puts a clammy hand on her breast as she strains to pull away. The chains shorten the more she resists. She shouts out.

Her arms, hands and legs are held fast and she pushes against something warm. A familiar voice says her name along with a mix of shushes and endearing words. The scent is familiar and soothing. She opens her eyes. Steve lies on his side, holding her to him and rocking her. She presses herself closer and hides her face in his chest. “It’s a bad dream, that’s all,” he says.

“Don’t let go of me.”

“I’m not going anywhere, sweetheart.” He strokes her hair and lets her get the front of his shirt wet. “Just a dream. You’re safe. I’ll keep you safe.” 

She laughs a little in spite of herself. “Who’ll keep you safe?”

He doesn’t laugh back. “You will. I’ve been pretty self-centered lately. You deserve better than that. I want you to feel safe with me. I feel safe with you. We’re happy together; we’ll be brave and alone and scared together, okay?”

“Okay. And I do feel safe with you: more so than with anyone else. Just like I’m happier with you than anyone else. I thought you already knew that.” She relaxes again and lets Steve rock her.

They stay that way for a long time. They fold into each other. They’re two halves, Diana thinks as her mind begins to shut down. Independent and complete, but better together. The last smokey tendrils of nightmare release their hold and fade away. She feels the slow, steady beat of her husband’s breath; she hears his heart against her ear. The song soothes her into sleep.


End file.
